


Bad Days Can Change

by DrakonNightengale



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt and comfort, Pre The End, i'm hurt, past alcohol abuse, self indulgent fic, this is my comfort, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 11:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakonNightengale/pseuds/DrakonNightengale
Summary: The world was bleak, everything sucked, I don’t know why I was even bothering to try. Walking home soaking wet was proof things were awful. Yet, when Edd and Matt aren’t home, I get the reconciliation and helping hand I didn’t even know I wanted. It feels weird, but nice.--In which I vent out my personal feelings onto one of my favourite Eddsworld characters.





	Bad Days Can Change

**Author's Note:**

> I’m lead to believe this isn’t as fluff as it could be and it probably more hurt and comfort and honestly this is the most self indulgent I’ve been with fanfic since I was 12 and shipped myself. I wrote this as almost a vent fic for my self worth and just… Kin feels I suppose. This isn’t a moniker of how I see the characters, this isn’t personal headcanons. It’s pure self indulgence and venting. It’s angst, it’s depressing and hurting, and honestly, I need more of it in my life.

I was frustrated when I came home, bass case over my shoulder as I checked to see if the door was unlocked, and grateful it was. Today was another horrible one, where I felt joyless doing what I wanted and just played to get out of there, maybe it was my fault being so young and rushing into a career, playing wherever I was booked, and for the past year it cycled between a cafe and a bar, sometimes on the same day, and working me to the bone.

I didn’t hate music or playing, I had made sure of that when these feelings came in, but for some reason this irritated the hell out of me, especially when some days were actually pleasant. This job was supposed to be good and a way to get enough for rent, which I would have if I wasn’t feeding into my habit, but the others didn’t mind much, I hoped.

Putting Susan away carefully, making sure she was locked up tight- a precaution after Edd had snuck into my room and used it to smash a spider- I tried to distract myself from my thoughts. There were good things, like how the coffee wasn’t enough to melt my skin when I got it poured on me earlier. Or how I didn’t have to play three songs without a drink because the baristas took a break and I was left to comfort the customers.

The walk there had been annoying and so had the walk home, but the first walk I had at least been dry. Now I was wet with the coffee and I was so glad it was when Susan hadn’t been in my lap- I’d be in jail for murder at that point.

Pulling at my blue dress shirt I was glad it wasn’t my hoodie, and that I lost my tie earlier. Gently stripping off my clothes I changed into some ripped skinny jeans and my blue hoodie, deciding to forgo a shirt and socks. If someone left something sharp on the floor I’d live. Actually with how many times our windows have broken, I'm going to wear my shoes. Plus Ringo was known for being aggressive and biting feet when she was playful, and I didn’t want pain when he next wore my checkered footwear.

Next step after getting changed and having some time alone was to check on when food might be ready. Typically someone decided to make a meal or order in for dinner, and I capitalized, I could cook, but if I could avoid it, I would. Even going as far as to eat Tord’s bacon and blame it on Edd or the cat. That sure got a laugh, but eventually I was discovered and well, it became less fun.

Those two and bacon, you’d think it was a drug and not a fatty piece of meat that could be replaced.

Heading towards the living room I was surprised to see Tord on the couch, and just decided to ignore him for food.  
Seeing there was no one in the kitchen I frowned and went to sit on the arm chair. Avoiding being near Tord was a blessing most days. I didn’t hate the other, far from it, he just… felt hated and responded in kind. Though I noticed everyone in their group kind of held some animosity towards each other, and would kill to get ahead- I didn’t care most either way- it seemed that Tord and I butted heads more often.

“Oh hey, Thomas. Edd and Matt are both out. Edd’s going out to the movies with some other friend named Pau and Matt said he got a date. I think it’s bullshit, but hell will be raised if anyone questions how he can be attractive,” Tord spoke slowly, sounding bored.

It was weird, seeing the man with lighter coloured hair and in colours. I was so used to the man who wore a trenchcoat, dyed his hair a dark brown, and acted like an emo communist. Now he was just, a red clad, light haired, emo communist. It seemed like everyone slowly changed their style, except for myself and Edd. Matt even going from his darker hoodie to green and purple again, and even behaving brightly as time went on. Even Edd was less likely to be depressing to be around, but hell if I could stand those puns or the way he jabbed hard at people for jokes. Nah I couldn’t spend too much time with any of them, why I lived with them was a-

“Thomas? You okay?” Tord was waving his hand in front of my eyes, frowning. “I get you worked today, but you’re not asleep, yet, I hope. I was talking to you, you know, you could respond with a Lame or something to not be a rude dick.”

“Uhh.. Lame? Look, I don’t want to start, I just want to watch something that isn’t your communist propaganda and relax. Also, I could be asleep, you’d never know,” annoyance seeped into my retort, not bothering to hide how I felt. Not like Tord would care.

“So did work go so horribly that you can’t even respond properly, did maggots eat your brain while you were out? If you’re turning into a zombie, let me know and I’ll put you down like you and Edd didn’t do with me.”

“One time, Tord. One time we don’t kill you and you hold a grudge. I’m not becoming a zombie, and if I was, you’re the last person I’d ask for mercy. What’s with being persistent, it’s not like you to care if work went bad.”

“Well someone has to make sure you’re alright, seeing as how you left a trail of liquid behind you and were soaked from the chest down.” Tord’s tone changed from his disgruntled tone, to concern, leaning forward onto his knees and looking me in where my empty crevices laid. “So come on, Tom, talk to me. Tell me what happened. We’ll get back to hating each other when the others are back but if it’s really that horrible, then maybe talk.”

I stared at me for a full minute, mouth ajar slightly as I took in that Tord had concern for me. Then several realizations came to me. I thought he hated me, and that I really did just walk past Tord without even realizing. That meant Tord told me the information that Matt and Edd weren’t home when I walked in. I was so preoccupied with his shitty day I didn’t listen, and Tord noticed. Third, that Tord even knew how to tell if shit was bad for me, and gave a shit not to make a pun or change the topic to himself.

“Tom, you’re spacing out again.” Fingers snapped in front of my face as Tord’s voice turned to annoyance again.

“Sorry, and I guess, I don’t know. I’m confused and shocked now. Give me a minute to realize you don’t hate me and then I’ll come up with a response.”

“What, Witness ninety-eight not working?” That got a coke out of me and a look of concern from Tord.

“No, absolutely not, leave the terrible puns to Edd.” I forgot that Tord and Edd were so close, however it made me feel slightly better. At least I remembered something.

Tord leaned back into his seat, once more crossing his arms and waiting for a response. Giving me some time to actually collect myself- though friendly or not, I had no doubts he would hound on me later. Yet, seeing such a concerned look on his face, I debated with myself. Was I drunk enough? Should I be drunk enough? Should I lie? What should I do?

Seconds felt drawn out into minutes, as the television droned on and neither of us paid attention. The longer I took, the more I felt on display. The longer he stared, the more nervous I got. I could just ignore him and go to the kitchen, he wouldn’t care or follow me, but I didn’t want that. Sure I had some toxic beliefs, we all kind of did. However it also seemed to be a time where someone was reaching their hand out.

I could knock it away, but well… I could always steal Tord’s memory eraser gun. He did show us where it was in case we had some severely foul memories to just toss out. In my opinion, he was showing off.

Tord and I had been good friends in highschool, at some point. So, it wasn’t like talking to him would be new?

“Thomas, you’ve been staring at me without blinking for nearly ten minutes now. Did something break in there? Are you high? Is the zombie thing actually on the nail because I’ll get my guns.”

“No, shut up Tord. Just. Thinking. Not that I’m used to you talking in full, usually you’re more self reserved and waiting for a chance to shoot something.”

“And usually at the first quip you have some form of retort, Tom, I’m not the only one out of my element. Least I’m not the world’s first on Earth space cadet.”

“Right, right.” Rubbing my eyes, I leaned back in the chair to stare at the ceiling. “Life is shit, the world is shit, and I’m constantly unhappy.” When I got no response, I continued on. “It’s just, I wonder why I’m trying some days and everything feels numb. Dunno why. Maybe inadequacy? Not belonging? Who knows! I just feel sometimes like instead of being in on the joke, I’m the butt of it. Hell, my pain is a source of amusement and my boundaries get crossed. I don’t have fun at work, I want to drink myself into a coma because at least drunk the world is more tolerable but if I get alcohol poisoning again then you’re all going to collectively throw me into rehab. If I show I’m depressed, it’s usually a joke or brushed off, and I wonder where my place even is here. None of us seem to like each other and more often than not, we’re getting into messes. It’s suffocating, everything is suffocating, I’m drowning and I can’t take it. I want to quit my job, I want to move out, life just sucks horribly and it won’t change so how do I cope with it? Now a person who I’ve been basically fighting since secondary school- who I thought hates me- is being friendly towards me and I’m feeling terrified this is going to hit me in the face and used to lower my self worth-”

“Tom, Thomas. Thompson. Please, take a breath, wipe your eyes, and calm down. I’m not going to throw this in your face, I’m not going to be an asshole and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t throw a wall up right now.” His voice was calm, collected, and full of concern. 

I looked back to him, and he had moved closer, his green eyes focussed on me and he held up a hand to let me know he wanted to speak more. 

“If you were feeling this way, I could see why you didn’t open up to the group, but I don’t think any of us would like to find a dead or departed Tom anytime soon. Especially since you’re our friend and that’s how you fit in. We like games, pizza, and generally we get into hijinx. If you feel left out, it’s not just because we push you, you’ve withdrawn. Honestly, you’re not open at all, so it’s hard to extend a hand, but I _never_ hated you Tom. We’re friends, at least how I see it. Otherwise I wouldn’t tolerate the bullshit I go through on a daily basis because you can push my buttons.” Tord inhaled sharply. “No, that’s not right. Even if you pull back and are abrasive, we’ve not been supporting. Apologies. Being the last person in the house is probably hard. I can sort of sympathize, since I’m not actually from England so it gets hard trying to fit into the group at times.” His eyes flashed for a moment. “Tom, I didn’t mean to upset you more.”

It was strange, I felt my cheeks warm up, only to realize the conversation was making me cry, and Tord was looking at me as if he broke one of the fine china plates.

“You look like a fish out of water.” I snorted, the expression helping ease some of the emotional weight I felt.

“Yeah, and you’re getting puffy.” He pulled the tissue box from the end table and threw it at me, despite being within arm's reach. “Tom, things aren’t easy on your end. I didn’t expect to kind of, just hear how badly depressed you were, and I doubt suggesting therapy is going to work, but I’m here. So, I don’t have much advice except, maybe take a break from overworking yourself, rediscover your enjoyment of music, and just… open up? I still have a hard time with open up as a term because as much as I know it’s supposed to be for emotions, I think of it in a physical stance. Please do not show me your innards.”

“But my intestines are so wonderful, Tord, you should see them.”

“Morbid.”

“Says you, military commie weeb.”

“Are you saying I am appropriating the military culture, the communist culture, or Japanese culture.” He deadpanned, and I was almost caught off guard.

“All of the above.”

“Tom… That makes no sense. You’re an idiot.” He rubbed his temples.

“Not as much as you are.”

“I’m going to make food now. Throw on what you want to watch, and if you feel like talking, we can talk and fill your stomach with something other than poison.”

“You’re addicted to hentai.”

“Hentai doesn’t kill my liver.”

“Rots your brain.”

“No it does- I’m not participating. I’m making food. We can go on for hours, I am hungry.”

“Well don’t let me stop you, though you haven’t moved an inch.”

“I’m concerned.”

“Of what?”

“Of when I turn my back. Who knows what my rival plans.”

“I’m your rival? Isn’t that Edd?”

“We’re all rivals. It spices life up.” He got up and gave me another glance. “This conversation isn’t over by the way.”

“Didn’t think so. Was hoping for it, but knew otherwise. Why are you working so hard to help?”

“Like I said, I don’t think any of us would be happy to find you missing or dead. We care. As much as a bunch of young adult men can.”

“Sounds gay.”

“You’ve fucked a coconut and had a child, I don’t want to hear shit, Witness.”

“Y’know, some idiot would call me Jehovah, why don’t you?”

“Because I’m not giving you a god complex. I have free time, I can search up what words mean.” He noticed himself standing awkwardly and went to the kitchen. Effectively terminating the banter, probably very hungry then. 

Suddenly it occurred to me, that Tord waited for me to get back to eat. Even when he was the first home. I’d have to ask about it. For now, I took up the remote and threw on Netflix. Picking out a basic anime. I didn’t half mind them, plus it was a thank you. If Tord could put up with my depressed ass, I could deal with his weeb shit.

An entire two episodes rolled around before he returned, with sub par spaghetti. Likely that we were running low on food then, shopping day tomorrow.

“Here. Eat up.” He placed down the plate and kept his in his lap to eat. Occasionally glancing over. 

Taking the plate, I raised an eyebrow and met his gaze.

“Want a picture?”

“Sarcasm king everyone.”

“Where’s my crown?” 

“Matt’s collection.”

“Shit, not getting that back.”

“Never expected swearing from you.”

“Learn something new everyday.”

“Yeah.”

At that, we sat in silence and ate. I had no idea what the plot for the show was, or even the name, but it felt nice and relaxing. A part of me was on edge still, but I could deal with it. After we finished our plates, we continued to sit in silence, before I spoke up.

“Why’d you wait for me?”

“Huh?”

“I’m asking why you waited up.” I turned to him. “You knew you could have eaten without me, but you waited for me. Why’s that?”

“Because you’ve been walking around like the living dead. I was concerned for both my life and yours. Hell, you look like death incarnate, I’m sure I could count your ribs at this point and your eyes have become significantly more creepy since they’re sunken in and you have no eyeballs.” 

“Ouch, that stings.”

“Tom. Be serious for a moment. I want you to know, I don’t hate you. I don’t just tolerate you. Faen, we were closer than Edd and I are now in highschool but you’ve pulled so far away I’m not even sure if I know you well enough. You’re far away from me, and pulling further. I don’t just notice this because I have to, it’s because I care and I don’t want to see what happens if you get worse.”

“Oh…”

“Thomas, your mouth doesn’t need to hang open.”

“We have a video camera?”

“Why? Where did that come from?”

“I need to record this.”

“Thomas.” There was a threatening tone to his voice as he shut his eyes tightly frowning.

“What?”

“I’m going to toss you across the room.”

“Wow, I’m not Edd here, and this isn’t bacon we’re fighting over.”

“I didn’t say I would hospitalize you.” He rolled his eyes, looking fed up.

“Right well. Gonna just-” I started to get up.

“Sit down. I want to talk seriously. Tom, you basically gave the equivalent of, _Help I am insanely depressed and I want my life to stop_.”

“Talking’s complicated. You won’t care tomorrow.”

“You’re self sabotaging.”

“What?”

“You are ruining your chances of having any support, by pushing me away and giving yourself an excuse and an escape.”

“Hey-”

“How many times do I have to say, I’m here for you because I’m worried and care? I’ve cared since school, Tom. I’m not going to run.”

“Yeah well, it’s hard. I don’t feel like you’re being honest with me. I feel like it’s a ploy.”

“Tom, please, just. Vent?”

“About what? About the awful feelings I have? I did that. I told you everything.”

“Okay, and how did it feel?”

“Good, I guess? Doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“Do you hate me that much?”

“What? No. I don’t hate you.”

“Really?”

“Really why would you think I…” I trailed off, realizing. I had been attacking him, the entire time he was listening and offering help. He was trying to be kind, and I was throwing it back in his face.

“Oh…”

“Indeed. Look, I get I’ve been harsh, but that’s both ways. We both fight. We’ll both start it.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Please don’t. I think we’re past that. I don’t care much about the fights right now.”

“Huh?”

“What I mean is there’s no need. Just… Talk? With me. Relax, let it out. Cry. Don’t go be mopey in your room like a NEET after being dumped by the hot chick.”

“Uhhh. Okayyy. Well…” I did his request. I talked. About everything. My day, how even just the small inconvenience could ruin everything. I spoke more about how I felt like I was drowning. How I couldn’t breath because I was in so much pain and other days where I wish I could even feel pain. The hopelessness hanging inside my chest, and how the world seemed to be faded and not there. The apathy towards everything the moment one thing went wrong. I couldn’t even hear my voice as I spoke, just letting out more in depth descriptions of my pain, even the parts where he hurt me. We looked at each other, and he just listened to my every word, giving attentive nods and reacting with subtle shifts in his position. When I was done, I felt my throat’s hoarseness.

Tord surprised me with getting up and just hugging me. It wasn’t short, but it was warm and comforting. Not restrictive. So I put my head into his shoulder and cried.

How long we were there? I don’t know. I don’t know when the night ended and we were caught by Matt and Edd. I was exhausted, burned out, but the weight on my chest, the fog in my mind? They were lessened.

I wasn’t better, it wasn’t a simple fix, but… the hand helped. In the drowning ocean I couldn’t breath, there was now a lifeline.

I might not be better, but I’d get there with my friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my god awful fic. I've been really shitty IRL and so I needed to make something and this started off being a TomTord fluff/smut fic and then I changed it completely because I coudln't get into the right mindset for this and realized it was going to be more of a hurt/comfort fic.
> 
> They're not enemies, and both characters started out with the misconception they both hate each other and that the other doesn't care. Tom's reactions mirror my own and someone I know's reactions to when we're severely depressed and someone offers help.
> 
> This fic is based on personal feelings and lived experiences. The narration and attention of Tom is based off of how I usually end up in these scenarios. It's a vent fic to let out some of my inner turmoil, and if it's OOC then that's fine by me.
> 
> Midway through I changed the POV to first person because I just couldn't keep myself separated from Tom. I might make more to this but for now it'll be a stand alone fic.
> 
> If you're interested in knowing more or even having a prompt written, go to my tumblr @drake-the-incubus
> 
> Leave a Kudos, tell me what you thought of the story. It's appreciated.


End file.
